fic rec – Page 3 – MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive

Remembrance

Even as I write this I know that people in Arina have forgotten almost everything about them. It is plain to me. I would talk to my father about all the silver they had paid us and he would be puzzled, like he did not know where it had all come from. I would ask the innkeeper, Arafat, about them, only to see him struggle to remember. “They slept for three days here, right? I didn’t talk to them too much,” he would tell me, then quickly change the subject to something more mundane.

They had, in fact, slept in his inn for months.

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“The tall one showed me then something he called a “star chart”, a disc of wood I had brought him where he had carved circles and dots, which he said represented the constellations of the heavens above. ’When one hunts the dark,’ he said to me, ’one needs light to guide him.’”

BLUE. WIZARDS. REALNESS.

On the birth of Ancalagon

redsixwing:

You will be unlike anything the world has seen. You will know my name.

You will be a new thing, born to fly, born to fire. You will be a shadow such as the skies have never seen. The pale starlight will shatter on your back, and in your eyes and the hollow of your throat, fire will kindle and live, wild and constrained as the fire beneath the earth. You may unloose it where you wish, my child, for the heat will send you spinning higher into the sky, and you will find the embers and the sound of flame beautiful.

You will be a soaring nightmare, and that will give you certain limitations: your bones blown-glass, your scales flakes of obsidian. You will fly on the breath of volcanoes and ride upon the back of the morning thermal, but you will be unable to rise on your own.
Your legs, alas, must be short; you will struggle, upon the ground, but my child, you will be a terror of the skies.

Some day I will leave this place, and I will forge you of stone and air and fire, all the tools of those who imprisoned me. They will never bind you.

I will never bind you.

You will be unlike anything the world has seen.

You will know my name.

—-

misbehavingmaiar (I think?) posted a thing the other day that was awesome, and then someone left a prompt for me that resulted in this.

I take no credit for the idea of Ancalagon as basically a tremendous azhdarchid, but I’ve had a lot of fun with it.

✚

sharpglance:

✚ for a kiss on a wound.

The elf was cursing, but ceased to tremble as Sauron pushed him against the wall to keep him from pacing away in howling, pained fury.

Maeglin heaved for breath and scrabbled to pull away the burned and smoking fabric away from his chest and collarbones. But Sauron just pushed his hands away with significant applications of strength and tore away the fabric easily.

The spray of water-like metal that splashed out of the mold when he tipped the bowl had come up and arced rather beautifully like a fountain, but landed on the elf. He’d flinched and turned his face away in time, but the molten aluminum was doing its damage and already forming welts on his sparsely-scarred, pale skin.

“What are you doing?!” Maeglin hissed, watching Sauron crane his head downwards to his bared skin. “It’s still burning!”

But he understood after he pressed his lips to the burns. The elf sighed with relief and relaxed against the wall as each one ceased to scald and burn into his flesh. Unless Sauron was a healer, scars would remain but those he could carry with a measure of pride.

;_____; omg. FORGEBROS FOR LIFE ❤

Sauron’s Visitor – Sauron/Langon fic

heraldofmelkor:

||Fic is a gift for misbehavingmaiar, whose Sauron is featured herein. Sauron/Langon PWP, basically. XD

—

Sauron’s Visitor

The air was heavy with heat and the scents of molten metals and fire. The steady beat of a hammer rang out, making sparks fly as Sauron worked, muscles bunching with each swing. He knew his work and he knew his forge as parts of himself, extensions of his own nature.

So well did he know them that a change in the air was swiftly apparent, a new presence obvious in the way it changed, ever so slightly, the energy of the room.

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It is a joyous day, my friends, when I receive the gift of beautiful forge porn to brighten my evenings with HOT BANGIN SMITH-ON-HERALD-ACTION, BOOYAH m/_ _m/

but really Sauron, quickies in the forge? tsk tsk what would Aulë say

“Skazg is dead. She was slain by elves three days ago”. It was not often Mauzurbal ventured into Ossë’s lair. The winding caves and tunnels were far too moist and humid for her tastes, and she groaned as she could feel her water drip onto her skin as she stood before the sea spirit. But her daughter had cared for Ossë, and so Mauzurbal sighed as he placed Skazg’s black skull on the rocky floor. “This is all that was left of her”.

masteroftheseas:

The cavern was large and simultaneously deceptively small; the majority of its size was in depth beneath the ground, where the lake of salt water wound and weaved its way to its source. Inside that dark, mirrored surface were two glowing orbs, each easily larger than a fully grown Elf, though far enough below that they seemed less imposing. They burned brighter in acknowledgement as a rumble like thunder sounded through the room.

Dead? He had known she was not quite like him, but also not like Children; death had been a concept that only concerned others. His little ember-mate was strong and hot and protected by shadow. Death was for fleshy, bloody creatures that could not defend themselves. She was dead?

One arm slithered from the sea, serpentine as it stretched along the cavern floor to circle the token left behind. He did not touch, just surrounded in a phantom embrace. Her familiar heat still emanated from her bone, but there was no bite or sound or embrace in return. The tip of his tentacle stroked lightly over one of her horns.

Surely he was meant to say something, but the sea-terror could not fathom any adequate response. A pitched whine joined the rumble in an eerie song. He should do something, then, but all he wanted to do was dry himself and feel the blistering warmth of his ember-mate’s touch. Another dozen arms surfaced silently to utterly surround and engulf the skull.

“Where?” he boomed, voice thrumming from the depths. There was only one thing he could do, only one thing that mattered: he would have his revenge. Their homes would flood, their spouses would drown, their spawn would bleed — they would know the pain he did, and then, they would be dead as well.

*WAILING*